It has been more than twenty years since Miranda Bradley first walked into our evening television viewing; the butter-wouldn't-melt-in-her-mouth girl-next-door who captured our hearts in her first ever role and has retained her hold on them ever since.

Living a life without scandal or mishap, or any of the behind-the-scenes shockers that habitually shake the image of her small-screen contemporaries, Bradley was long ago dubbed the Virgin Queen by the tabloids.

But the time has come to puree that purity--and who better to flick the switch than Bradley herself?

Titled for her first television role, but a long way from the freckled minx who delighted the nation with her mischievous innocence, Naughty Miranda is Bradley's own no-holds-barred sexual autobiography, a kaleidoscope of taste, touch and exquisitely vivid story telling.

But Naughty Miranda is not another "hot” Hollywood memoir. Bradley might work in Tinseltown, but she lives in the real world.

There are no incredible casting couch seductions, no torrid affairs with steamy leading men, and no on-set sex scenes that slipped a few inches too far.

Bradley's loves take place away from the cameras, away from the hot lights and microphones, in a world of shopping malls, SUVs, camping trips and bus-stops, In a world where she is plain old Miranda, and most people don't even notice her unless she decides she wants them to.

In other words, butter still wouldn't melt in her mouth. But her men do.